The Wolves Descend
by TheCapitolGirl
Summary: " You all lied. Every single one of you." Her eyes glared at the large pack of boys, hatred burning in them. Her brother stepped forward with an outstretched arm but she stepped back like it was acid. The pack could see the small tremble in her lip as she glared at them. " You lied." She whispered, backing out of the door before they could see the tears that fell too soon.
1. Chapter 1

**Everything that sounds like it was in The Twilight Saga most likely was- I only own Mackenzie, and all the other characters I have yet to add into this crap series. Okay, I hate these things just as much as you so bye! **

Chapter One;

My nails tapped nervously against the desk as I watched the clock in the front of the room. I was positive that every other person in this room was doing exactly what I was doing- not paying attention in class and waiting to get out of it for summer. Hell, even the nerds probably wanted nothing to do with this school at the moment. Our teacher was having one of her mini melt-downs. Basically all that happens is she runs around the room with her ugly, loud heels that she finds attractive.

" Mackenzie." My eyes shot away from the clock and I looked at my teacher. She frowned, her dark red lips pressed tightly against each other. I smirked and sat up straight, crossing my arms over my chest. I could hear the breathing of my lab partner as she leaned away from me. She was one of those goodie-too-shoes. I mean, I'm not a _bad _student, my younger brother might be though.

" Yes Miss Bitc- I mean Hitch?" I asked, biting my lip. I heard sniffled laughter around the room as I made a slight grammar _accident. _

" Miss Fuller, I have warned you time and time again-" Her rant was cut short as the bell rang, indicating I was free. I grabbed my purse off my chair and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

" Have fun with my brother next year, Miss Hitch." I snickered, before walking out of the room to find Brady. Before you ask who he is and why I'm looking for him, he's my annoying, self-absorbed, ignorant, idiotic pest of a brother. He's two years younger than me, a newbie at high school. And, _I hate him._

One time when I was getting ready for my date with this really hot guy named Joshua French, he thought it would be absolutely frickin' hilarious to take my clothes while I was in the shower and lock my bedroom door. So basically, I chased him out of the house and he got a small bruise. Yeah, you can't see the problem yet can you? Oh yeah, Joshua was outside, in his car, watching me while I was in a towel. I never went on the date. _  
_

" Kenz!" Speak of the devil.

" Brady!" I yelled back, faking enthusiasm. He ran over to me, his thick books under his arm and his backpack slung over his shoulder. My brother definitely wasn't ugly, I mean- he is my brother. Calling him ugly would be calling my mom and dad ugly, who also made me, which would make me ugly. He, like me, is a full Quileute. Which means dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes. Big whoop. Everyone who goes to school at the reservation looks the same unless you're an outsider like Bethany Hart.

" Ready?" He asked. I rolled my eyes, his voice alone irritating me. I just nodded and walked out of the school. Brady was in front of me, walking as if he had something in his pants. I kept my head down, hoping no one would think we were related.

Bad idea.

" Watch it, short stack," Someone hissed in front of me. I pushed my hair away from my eyes and glared at the figure. Oh great, it was the hot-head Lahote. I pushed past him, grabbing my brother who stopped to gape at the huge man. Paul Lahote was a part of Sam's cult. Every single one of the elders says Sam is a ''hero''. I think it's all bullshit. His cult involves himself, Paul, Jared Cameron, Embry Call, and Jacob Black. When I meant huge man, I meant huge man. All of them in the cult are extremely built. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't have a problem with Sam.

But they are. And I do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but Mackenzie. Stephenie Meyer owns everything. **

* * *

Chapter Two;

"You little brat! I'm going to kill you!" My mom watched Brady and I glare at each other, my make up bag clutched in his arms. The little dweep thought it would be an amazing prank to take my make up and throw it in the sink with the water running. All of the stuff in my bag is ruined. He even made the effort to unscrew and pop open every thing that _was _safely covered. My mascara dripped onto the hard wood floor and my eyeshadow was smeared like putty in the case.

"Oh come on Kenz! You can still use it! You look like a clown either way!" My eyes widened and I pulled my lips back. " Uh oh," Brady slowly stepped backwards, dropping the drenched bag. There was a 'splat' as it hit but my attention was on the 5'9 brunette boy in front of me.

"Run."

And with that, he did. Both of us took of out of the house, me furiously trying to grab his shaggy hair. Every other moment he would whimper in fear, and I would yell a bit louder. We were half way down the street when both of us came to a halt. Brady stopped first, causing me to crash into his back. I was expecting a tumble for both of us, but he stood like a rock wall while I steadied myself.

" Is that Seth?" Brady mumbled. Seth was one of his older friends in my grade. I never really made an effort to talk to him, mostly because if he was friends with _my _brother, then he's got to be a fundamentally screwed up human being. But this Seth, was _not _fundamentally screwed up. He was actually very attractive. Just a few weeks ago his hair was shaggy and went down to his chin. Now his hair is buzz cut and he grew over night. He had to be at least 6'3. You could see the muscles on his shoulders and arms through the tank top he was sporting. Finally, my eyes drifted to the tattoo on his right arm. I narrowed my eyes, knowing exactly what the tattoo meant.

"No," I said, grabbing my little brother's shoulder. "Seth is gone," By gone, I meant he was no longer himself. Samuel Uley got to his head, and now he was in their cult, just like all the others.

As if on cue, Seth turned his head at the sound of his name, and his eyes locked with Brady's. This was his friend, he had to at least give him a sad smile, right? No. All he did was glare into my little brother's eyes with such hatred. Only a flash of guilt and hurt went through his brown eyes. I snorted, causing the youngest Clearwater's attention to drift towards me. Ignoring his gaze, I took Brady's elbow and dragged him back to our house.

"He's gone," Brady mumbled. "Collin and I thought- we thought-" He stuttered through his words. I sighed and wrapped a shoulder around my-taller than me- brother.

"Brady, you don't need Seth. You've got Collin, and your older, amazing, beautiful, talented, remarkable-" I was cut off by a slap to the head and a chuckle. I smirked and looked up at my brother. He frowned just as he looked down at me.

"I'm sorry, Kenzie. About the make up," He looked down at the ground, twisting his hands together. I snorted and shoved my shoulder into his arm. Almost immediately he shoved me back, and I fell. I gasped and looked up at him. A smirk was placed on his face now, victory shining in his eyes.

Until a slop of mud landed on his face.

I shoved my hand up into the air, cursing victory pledges at the wind. Brady was grumbling behind me, obviously pissed I ruined his face. Not ten seconds later though, a big puddle landed in my hair. I whined, putting my hands down, looking over at my brother. Brady was grinning from ear to ear, the mud wiped off his eyes, but still everywhere else.

"Oh you're on," I snarled. Grabbing another pile of mud, I slung it at him. It hit him square in the face, making him look like the mud monster because his hair was the color of it. I quickly got out of the mud I was currently sitting in, and ran towards our house. Before I could even take three steps, I was tackled into another puddle. I squealed and thrashed in my brother's arms, trying hard to escape.

"I win!" He cheered happily. I sneakily scooped a handful of watery mud in my hand, and just as he turned to rub it in my face that he won, I smashed it onto his hair, lathering it in like shampoo. He screeched like a little girl, jumping up. I jumped up once again, pointing at him and jumping around in happiness.

"Sore loser! I beat you, I beat you!" I sang, jumping about. Just as a flash was taken, Brady stopped his pouting and I stopped my dancing. Our mother was standing there in her white flannel shirt, a black camera in her hand.

"Neither of you won. Now go out back. You're not coming into my house looking like that. I'll get you clothes, you start the hose." Brady and I both whined, walking outback to the hose.


End file.
